


Monday

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:05:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair tries to cheer up a gloomy Monday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Monday

**Author's Note:**

> I was hunting for something the other day and found this little PWP, unfinished and languishing on an abandoned disk. I decided to complete it, then send it on it's happy way to hopefully be enjoyed by a few others. 
> 
> It's been a very long time since I have posted anything to this list, and I wasn't sure I wanted to post this story, but was convinced by friends that it needed to be out there. So, here it is. 
> 
> Feedback at the address above would be lovely.

## Monday

by Galina

Author's disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, and I intend no infringement upon the rights of the original creators, producers, or anyone associated with Pet Fly, UPN, or Paramount. This is an original work of fiction intended only for the enjoyment of other fans.

* * *

Monday. 

Jim hated Mondays. And this one was no exception. It was cold and dreary, typical late winter-early spring weather. 

His mood mirrored the weather. Dark and brooding. These days, weekends never seemed long enough. He knew things were exacerbated by his lover's absence, but also knew it couldn't be helped. 

Blair had had to work at the university all weekend long, on an important exhibit that he was responsible for bringing to Cascade. It was really quite a major event, and Jim was actually very proud of Blair. Everyone had said it was a major accomplishment for one so young and not quite lettered, and Jim whole-heartedly agreed. 

He had been proud to accompany his partner, handsome in his tuxedo, to the gala opening of the exhibit on Saturday night, and joyfully listened to the accolades raining down on the man. He was doubly thrilled thinking about how he would be the one to take him home, where they could celebrate the evening in a more intimate fashion. 

Alas, things did not pan out the way Jim had expected. The evening wore on long into the wee hours of Sunday, and Blair had been too exhausted and inebriated to be able to do more than collapse into the big bed. Jim had sighed and resigned himself to mechanically undressing the mostly asleep Blair. Jim spooned up behind him, happy at least to have his lover in his arms for the night. 

Sunday had dawned cold and rainy, much like Monday. Blair had actually managed to drag his body out of bed at 6:30, showering and heading back to the university before Jim had even become conscious. Blair had to be there for a special press conference about the rare items in the exhibit. 

Jim had spent the day sulking and finding mindless chores to keep him busy. The refrigerator had never been so clean. 

That night had been filled with sounds of Blair typing at his laptop, preparing for the coming week's classes and lessons. Jim gave up at midnight, leaving Blair alone at the table, still working steadily. 

And now it was Monday morning, and Jim was hating the fact that he had to be at his desk in a little more than an hour. He felt cheated and surly. 

He lathered his face and prepared to shave. As he watched his reflection in the mirror, Blair stumbled into the small bathroom grumbling, his eyes more closed than open. 

"Good morning, Chief," Jim said, a little too cheerfully. 

Blair grimaced at his lover and replied, "Not". 

"Feeling the effects of notoriety?" Jim said. 

"Funny, it feels just like sleep deprivation to me," Blair said, starting to undress. 

"Sarcasm doesn't look good on you, lover," Jim said, eyes roving the planes of the increasingly naked body behind him. 

"You either, little Mr. Sunshine," Blair said, then stepped into the shower enclosure. 

Blair turned on the water, waited a few moments for the temperature to get comfortable, then pulled up on the button that sent hot water flowing over him. Jim watched as Blair closed his eyes and leaned back into the spray. A contented sigh escaped the full lips, and long fingered hands ran over the wiry body. Jim realized he had stopped shaving and was devoting his complete attention to the gorgeous man in the shower. 

His body reacted to the sights he was enjoying, and he felt his penis twitch. He imagined they were _his_ hands running over the soap-slicked skin, teasing the firm little nipples... 

Jim shook himself and dragged his attention back to the neglected razor in his hand. He needed to get a grip. 

Yeah. A grip on that bobbing cock pushing up from the nest of curly, deep brown pubic hair his lover was currently lathering... 

Stop already! He was never going to finish shaving at this rate. Maybe cleaning the shower door with that special soap wasn't such a great idea after all. The thought of having the glass doors stay clear during the shower had appealed to him initially, but he had not anticipated being in the room when Blair was showering. The sensuous morning ritual was sending him right over the proverbial edge. 

He finally finished his shave and toweled his face dry, ready to leave the now steamy bathroom, but his eyes strayed once more to the shower and the wet body within. 

Blair was turned around, facing the wall where the shower spigot was mounted, head down, allowing the hot water to cascade through his curls. His hands were placed against the wall, looking nearly like he was waiting to be frisked by a passing cop. Jim growled deep and low in his throat, imagining himself the lucky cop to be passing by this delicious suspect. 

Just then Blair moaned, obviously enjoying the pounding hot water. He was rolling his head back and forth, directing the spray onto tired muscles in his neck and shoulders. He turned around again, this time letting the water sluice down over his head and face. His hands wandered over his clean, smooth skin, absently brushing a nipple as they ran up to his neck. 

Jim stared, fascinated by the sensuous movements of his oblivious partner, then something clicked in his deprived brain and he cocked an eyebrow in the direction of the shower stall and its occupant. 

As he watched, Blair's hands ran down his flanks and headed straight for his half erect shaft. Jim's mouth fell open as he watched Blair begin to pump himself, slowly and deliberately. A softly moaned, "Mmm," issued from the wet mouth. 

He was doing this on purpose! The little shit! He'd give him something to moan about. 

Quickly, he shed his bathrobe, and threw the shower doors open, startling the little performer within. "Jim! What are you doing?" 

"Just giving you what you want, Sandburg," Jim purred as he stepped into the shower enclosure and took Blair into his ardent embrace. 

He latched onto the smiling mouth and proceeded to devour it, sending his tongue on an exploratory mission within. Blair responded in kind, his tongue meeting and caressing Jim's. 

Their hands flew over each other's bodies, hungry and almost frantic with the need to love. "God, I want you," Jim panted into Blair's ear, as he nibbled and sucked his way down the corded column of neck, coming to rest in the little hollow created by the clavicle. He gently bit the soft flesh of Blair's shoulder. 

Blair hissed and arched into Jim's body, nudging his cock against Jim's thigh, "Ohh, you know I love it when you do that. I want you back. Make love to me, Jim, here, now." 

Jim pulled back a little, searching for then finding the bright, blue eyes pleading openly for his love. He kissed Blair again, passionately, wantonly, feeling he could never get close enough to him. Wanting him, wanting to be inside him, wanting to hear him cry out in release, the release Jim created and then drew from him, crashing against and joining with his own. 

He whispered, "Yes," then wrapped his hands around firm, muscled buttocks, pulling Blair into closer contact with his own aching desire. He sucked his own index finger, coating it with slick saliva, then ran it over the puckered entrance to Blair's body. He gently slid the finger in. 

Blair threw his head back, shouting loudly, harshly. "Oh, yes! God, that's good, Jim. I want you so badly!" 

Jim added another finger to the first, stretching and pleasuring his lover. Blair was moving, grinding onto Jim's long fingers, moaning and panting. Jim could see Blair wouldn't last long, and knew he wouldn't either. Not after the performance his anthropologist had given, luring Jim shamelessly into the shower with him. 

He removed his fingers and turned Blair around in one swift movement, conveying the urgency of his desire. Blair responded fluidly, gracefully, using his body to ignite Jim further. He resumed his earlier position, palms flat on the tiles, legs wide and waiting. 

Jim found the crumpled tube of KY on the little shower shelf, next to the shampoo and conditioner. He squeezed out a fat dollop, coated his fingers, then used them to slick the lube onto his leaking cock. He pressed the fingers into Blair's body again, spreading the lube deeply. He bumped the little gland, sending Blair into spasms of pleasure. "Please, Jim, no more teasing. I need you, now!" 

"Right now?" Jim continued to tease. 

"Yes!" Blair hissed, pushing back to find the desperately wanted cock. 

Jim lined himself up with Blair's hole, then pressed just the tip in, holding Blair still for an agonized moment. "Do it, push me into you, lover. Take me." 

Blair thrusted his hips backward, impaling himself on Jim's long, hard shaft. Both men cried out in exquisite agony. Jim leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Blair's chest, fingers finding and pinching the taut nipples, then brought his hungry mouth down and bit Blair's shoulder again, gently marking his love. 

Blair thrust against Jim furiously, setting up a punishing rhythm. Jim left one nipple and snaked his hand down to curl around Blair's waiting, turgid penis. He stroked Blair in counter rhythm, bringing him ever closer to the imagined release. 

Time hung suspended for several glorious minutes, as the men stroked and thrusted and pleasured each other, building toward a long awaited and intensely desired orgasm. Then, too soon, they were there, crying out, coming, and finally crashing like waves upon each other's shores. Panting and sated, they slid to the floor of the shower, tangled together comfortably. 

"Oh God, I needed that," Jim whispered. 

"You and me, both," Blair whispered back, then planted a wet, sloppy kiss onto Jim's still panting mouth, "Don't you just love Mondays?" 

Jim chuckled, then giggled. Then Blair joined him and soon they were both laughing heartily, the drudgery of another Monday forgotten, at least for now. 

Finis 


End file.
